Declaration
by MessyJess
Summary: Brennan thinking about love. My expression of agreement that Bones is the one aware of her romantic feeling for Booth, rather than the other way around.


**Well gang, I'm on a roll. Pregnancy hormones and copious amounts of True Blood episodes, must be a winning combination for fan fiction. This is just a little blip from Brennan's point of view. I've hear it widely discussed that many fans of the show believe her to be the character more in touch with her growing romantic feelings. This is an expression of my agreement. Enjoy, and don't forget to comment!!**

She'd never been one for grand declarations. Or, really, even minor declarations. They seemed over dramatic and mired in emotionality. She supposed that was just another example of her lacking in femininity.

She watched as her father stood from the table that they were sharing with Booth. She heard some invisible joint in his body pop in protest at being removed from its comfortable position in the chair next to her. It dawned on her then how much older her father was now than when she was a child. Her throat tightened at all the years she had missed, and for the first time all she felt was a slight twinge of nostalgic regret, and there was no anger. She was too tired to be angry anymore. Too relieved at her life's newfound stability to hold on to all the things that made her sad.

As her father turned to say goodnight she smiled into the blue eyes that he had passed on to her, and because it felt natural, she said, "Goodnight, Dad. Love you." She didn't miss his brief falter as he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"I love you too, baby." Strange that the 'baby' didn't bother her either. She remembered being his 'baby'. Remembered being tucked in and warm and safe. And for the first time those good memories weren't tempered with the awful ones that followed. She felt herself smile at the smell of her father's cheek as he withdrew.

He looked so surprised when he leaned back, she had to ask, "What's wrong, Dad?"

"Nothing. It's just…I don't think you've said that to me since you were a little girl." She quickly sifted through her mind. He was right. But didn't it go without being said? Surely he'd known. How could he not know? He was her father, she was his daughter, of course she loved him. He had said, when he was on trial for his life, he knew she loved him, no matter what anyone else thought or said. It had never occurred to her how badly he might have wanted to hear the actual words. But she could see in his face how pleased he was, and maybe even a little relieved. She felt awful to have made him doubt, but simultaneously she wondered at the happiness splashed across his face.

How wonderful, to be able to make someone so happy with just a few words. She leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, privately, so maybe Booth wouldn't hear this time, "I love you, Daddy." He chuckled and rubbed her back and she might have only imagined that his eyes seemed to be glistening as he walked out of the diner.

She looked across the table at Booth, and it suddenly occurred to her, that as much as she felt for her father, she felt more for the man sitting across from her. A dread crept up through her throat as she thought of all the times they'd almost lost each other: being blown up, kidnapped, buried alive, shot, tortured, etc. She had been close to death any number of times, and she had never told the man what he meant to her.

She knew the love she felt for Booth was different than that which she felt for her father, or Russ. She had known for some time now that it was a romantic love entangled with a deep and abiding attachment. She didn't know if this version of love really had the capability to last a lifetime. Forever was a completely intangible and unrealistic concept. But she did know, and had acknowledged, privately at least, that what she felt for Booth certainly transcended any emotion she had experienced for any other person in her life. And the potency of that emotion, and its unwavering nature despite all the arguing and frustration, differences and denial, indicated to her that it might, indeed, last the rest of her life.

Naturally, to reveal such truth, particularly at seven o'clock on a Tuesday night without preamble or plan of follow through would probably come off as insane. Her mind flashed back to the look of surprise on her father's face when she told him she loved him. How could she let that stand? At the very least shouldn't Booth know that she loves him in a manner akin to family? She had come to a decision.

She blinked, and realized that she had been staring at Booth the entire length of her cogitation. He didn't seem bothered by it.

"What's up, Bones? You've got that zoned-out, deep-thinking face on." He waited for her response, eyebrows slightly lifted and a faint smile dancing across his face. The smile made her curious.

"Why are you smiling?" Her declaration could wait until she had satisfied her research hunger.

"It was nice to hear you say that to your dad. I know…I know how much it must have meant to him. You know, as a father." She knew there was probably more to it than that. And she realized with shocking clarity that she was more in tune with what was pulsing between them than he was. He wasn't there yet. He was still fighting it, or maybe he was just trying to understand where they were, and where they were headed. In all fairness, she had only figured it out very recently. But she recognized his need for a nudge in the right direction, so her declaration seemed all the more important now.

"Well, I do love my father," she paused, suddenly nervous, unsure of her wording, knowing the potential for failure that existed when it came to emotional expression, particularly for her. She plowed ahead, anyway, "I love you too, Booth. I'm sure you knew that already, but I thought…" her words drifted into the air between them.

He looked shocked, but not in an appalled way. He recovered quickly though, she gave him credit for that, "Yeah, Bones, I know. I love you too." She smiled and speared another piece of spinach salad with her fork, while he dove back into his rhubarb pie with zeal. His smile had burst full-blown across his face, and she marveled again at how easy it was to make someone happy, and how nice it felt.

She hoped he'd catch up to her soon. When he did, she had another declaration forming in her mind.


End file.
